Violated
by Oniegiri
Summary: After Soren is brutally raped by four Begnion soldiers, Ike must take the first steps in helping him recover. But will Soren allow himself to heal in Ike's arms? Rated M for graphic rape and language. Cowritten with Invader Aqua.


**A very appreciative hello and thank you from Aqua and I to everyone who has come here to read "Violated"! This is rated M for mine and Aqua's version of graphicness. I really hope it's enjoyable!**

**Instead of me proofing it like I always do for FWY, my dear Kwinny proofed this one! She did great, because I was rereading it last night after she sent it and it was as if I had read it for the first time. So please visit her dA or FFN, which is linked in my FFN profile. ilu darling!**

**And our readers and all who are fans of "Kwinnies who Cowrite". XD **

**Violated**

Soren was never as large as any of the other warriors. He had always been lithe, small, and lacking in physical strength. He depended on Ike to help him lift stacks of books among other objects. The mercenaries usually didn't mind, because they were used to Soren, and Rhys was much the same way, but during the Mad King's War, his petite form began receiving unwanted attention from some of the new recruits.

Because of his long hair, and spell caster attire, he was often confused for a young lady, which irked the youth to no end. However, it never once occurred to the branded how dangerous the simple confusion could be.

Soren was overlooking the inventory for about the third time, twice after the merchant band had already done so. Ike told him to take a break, but Soren explained that thoroughness in a time of war was essential and they couldn't afford to be coming up short on anything at anytime.

"But do you really need to check _those?_" Ike asked. "All of that is kept at the back of the camp. It'll take you fifteen minutes to walk back to those tents."

"It's better that I do. Cali told me she needed a new tome, and I think there's a spare Elthunder with those supplies." Soren gently patted Ike's arm before exiting the tent. "I'll be back soon, it won't take me long."

"Don't freeze to death," the commander called. "Oh, and pull up your hood! The wind is starting to blow!"

The sage nodded and exited the tent into the harsh winter wind. He pulled up his hood, as his companion had requested and began his solitary trek to the farthest reaches of the camp. The first half wasn't so bad, but once he made it into the camp with the new recruits from Begnion, he felt ill at ease.

A group of soldiers sat around a fire pit, but averted their gaze to the spell caster as he walked by. They called to him, whistled, and made obscene gestures, but the youth ignored them.

"Ingrates," he muttered, the word coming out as a puff of smoke in the frigid air. He continued at his brisk pace to the supply tents, unaware of those following him. The howl of the wind blocked out everything but the whips of his cloak.

The supply tent was the largest tent in the smaller camp. The tactician was relieved as he entered it, since it blocked out the wind, yet there was still snow on the ground. He closed the tent flap behind him and made his way over to the tomes. Soren had not even started the inventory when he heard the crunching of snow behind him. From what he heard, there were about four others in the tent with him.

"Can I help you?" he asked flatly, popping open a small crate. He stiffened when he heard one step forward.

"Yeah, you sure can..." one man said slowly. Soren didn't turn around to look at the smirks on their faces.

Their erections were practically stabbing through their under armor as they examined their ebony haired prey. Soren's hand clutched his Elwind tome, but the movement was noticed. In only a second, the tome was snatched from under his arm and a greasy hand flattened over his mouth.

"Hurry, get something so she can't chant!"

Another gloved hand pried at the spell caster's mouth, forcing it just the slightest bit open, so that when a leather belt was put into place, there was no way he could move his mouth around it. The belt was tightened against the back of his head, and the first pair of hands moved to restrain his hands behind him.

"Well, well boys. Fine catch, this evening, eh?" the captor taunted, whirling the sage around to face the other three soldiers.

Soren lost his balance easily and hit his knees. He looked up to see the other three soldiers fondling their crotches. His eyes widened as sick realization slammed into him. He didn't have time to react as the man behind him pushed him all the way to the ground, smashing his face into the cold snow. He felt his robes being removed.

_No, no, no!_

His true gender was quickly discovered, but that didn't seem to be an issue for the soldiers.

"Goddess, for a man, he's so fucking sexy..." he heard one murmur. He felt their hands roaming over him and caressing him. He attempted to struggle, but a foot made hard contact with his side and he coughed through the belt in his mouth. He moaned, which provoked the men and their actions even more.

Soren felt his hips being lifted so the rest of his clothing could be removed. Their hands were roaming further now, one even fondling his length, which, much to his dismay, was beginning to rise in response to the ministrations.

The others chuckled at their accomplishment, and pushed the completely disrobed, young spell caster down in the snow. He attempted to flee, but was snatched by his pony tail and drug back into the group of tormentors.

"Who wants the first go?" a gruff voice asked.

The others began bickering. Soren was far too cold to do much about his situation. Daein winters were cruel enough with clothes. Now, he felt as if he would die. He was grabbed roughly by his arms and pushed against the largest of the men. "Are you ready, filthy bitch?" the man asked, stroking the boy's chin.

The sage's eyes widened in fear.

Soren closed his eyes as he was whirled bodily around and forced onto his knees. His wrists were unbound so he could sit doggy style. He opened his eyes when he felt the belt being removed from his mouth, only to see a thick, throbbing penis staring him down.

Had he not been nearly frozen from the shock of the situation and the steadily dropping temperature of the air, he would have protested, or at least bit the damn thing when it was inserted into his mouth. A strangely gentle hand rested on the back on his head and he felt his jaw stretch. The head of it touched the back of his throat and he involuntarily gagged. This didn't stop the intruder, who slowly started his rhythm.

The feeling was horrid; having the fleshy object moving in and out of him. It would have been slightly easier to bear had he not had to taste it, but he did. And it was apparent that the men weren't exactly hygienic. His mouth began to close, and his teeth began to graze the appendage when he was roughly yanked back. "The fuck're you doing?! No. Teeth!" the man ordered, smacking the sage once across the face before forcing the appendage back into his mouth.

The spell caster accepted the act. He was cold and sore, and if four blowjobs was all it took to make it back to his tent and forget this nightmare, he would bear it. Or so he thought.

The sage was wrong to think that four blowjobs were the extent of the horror being bestowed upon him. He realized this when he felt a pair of hands pull his rear cheeks apart.

He felt so exposed it actually scared him. _He couldn't possibly..._

Soren's scream was muffled against the dick rubbing his tongue when he felt a hot cock insert itself into his ass. It wasn't slow; it was in all the way in one movement. He felt as though he was being ripped apart, and the small trickle he felt on his leg alerted him that he was bleeding.

Tears formed and flowed. The man in the back began grunting and thrusting, holding his hips in place and moving his body to his own will. His eyes nearly bugged when he felt his front thrusting stop; he coughed as a steady flow of cum filled his mouth.

His head was held in place to keep him from pulling away from the spurting cock. "Swallow it all," the man commanded.

"Come on, guys, we're dying here!" The other two said simultaneously. The man in the back ignored them as he continued to fuck the youth from behind.

The sage did his best to rid his mouth of the foul liquid, but he gagged each time he tried to swallow. What was worse was the brutal pace being set by the man behind him. As the last of the first man's release fell to the snow, the second man halted, pouring his seed into his unwilling partner. He groaned obscenely.

"Not bad," he said gruffly, hoisting his pants.

Soren was shaky, but in too much pain to sit back on his heels. He almost wanted to sit in the snow, just to get some relief. However, as a fist snatched him up by his hair, he was alerted of his next impatient partner.

---

Ike waited for Soren to return for as long as he could stand it, which was only about fifteen minutes.

_That guy needs to sleep for once,_ Ike thought as he trudged the long walk to the back supply tents. He made it there in half the time it took his tactician.

---

Soren coughed as another cock forced its way into his mouth. The sage felt numb and simply closed his eyes as the intruder pushed and pulled, pushed and pulled. He felt the head of another dick prod at his hole and he whimpered, though the pain was not nearly as intense as it had been the first time.

His brain felt shut off, so it didn't occur to him that his tormentors had stopped when he faintly heard the flaps of the tent fly open.

Ike's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the sight before him. Soren, his long time friend and loyal tactician, was naked in the snow. Four Begnion soldiers filled the remaining space of the supply tent. Two had their pants removed: one had his cock in the spell caster's mouth and a fist full of the youth's ebony locks, the other had his erection poised at the branded's bloodied entrance. The other two were mostly dressed and watching with a sick sense of humor that disappeared at the sight of their leader.

"Sir!" one of the two men addressed.

"This is-... we were just-!" another interrupted.

"Sir, no need to overreact; we were just having a little fun... he _likes_ it," said the soldier who had just removed his length from Soren's mouth. "I'm sure he'll give you a go if you ask."

Ike's eyes blazed with fury. "_Get your fucking hands off of him!_" he yelled, grabbing Ragnell from his side. The four men recoiled away from the spell caster, raising their arms in defense. They navigated around the swordsman as quickly and gracelessly as they could, apologizing and wailing.

"We're sorry, General!"

"_GET OUT!_" he yelled furiously, and they all tripped over each other trying to get away. Ike immediately turned to Soren, who kept his head down, trying to cover himself. "Soren!" he whispered harshly, unclasping his cape from his shoulder and bringing it down around the sage's body.

The warmth of the cloth reminded the spell caster of how cold he truly was, and he began to shake as well as sob.

Ike's heart broke when he heard the sound. He had never known the youth to be so vulnerable. Soren was something he always saw as strong, unshakable. What's worse was that it was hard enough for the poor boy to trust people without them hurting him, but _this_...

_This is unforgivable!_

Ike reached down to stroke the youth's hair, but he shied away from the touch. The bluenette's heart dropped; it had taken him years to get close to Soren, and it had been robbed from him in one act of stupidity.

_No, four acts of stupidity._

He gathered his tactician in his arms, grabbing Soren's discarded robes and wrapping the cape around him to keep him warm for their long trek back to the tent.

"No, Ike, let me go!" Soren struggled in his commander's grasp, but soon found that the movements stressed the pain he was feeling in his hips and lower back. He fell limp in Ike's arms, letting himself cry into the bluenette's chest as he tried to wipe the semen from his chin and neck.

The swordsman left the tent and fought back the tears threatening to spill. He saw immediately the footsteps zigzagging in the snow and running back to camp. The one thing that improved his mood was the fact that he had memorized each face.

---

"Ike?!" Titania exclaimed when she entered the tent and saw her commander pulling away his cape to reveal a naked Soren who was lying on his cot. She looked away, but the bluenette quickly pulled a blanket up to cover the ebony haired sage. "What in the world hap--"

"Take care of him. I'll be right back." Ike growled, reaching for Ragnell's hilt and standing to leave. Titania didn't question him, and she nodded and moved to the side of the cot to guard Soren.

The commander stormed out of the tent.

---

He trekked back to the supply camp and followed the tracks to their respected tents. It wasn't very hard to find the soldiers who had committed the offense; they all flinched at the sound of his voice. He marched all four of them out of the camp and into the woods.

Once far enough away from the camp, Ike wasted no time and gave the vindictive rapists an ultimatum: Life or Death.

"S-sir, would you really kill us? We were just trying to relieve ourselves..." one soldier dared to argue, but Ike raised a hand sharply.

"Then you should have sucked each other off!" he said through gritted teeth. "You did something awful to a dear friend of mine," He said angrily, drawing Ragnell and stepping forward. "Something I can't forgive."

---

Ike returned over an hour later to find Soren alone in his tent, sitting up and wrapped in multiple blankets. The bluenette had no doubt that the sage had ran Titania off so he wouldn't have to explain what had happened.

Red eyes met his, but were soon lowered.

"Hey..." the bluenette's tone was kind and loving as he approached the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Violated," the youth replied quickly, pulling his blankets tighter to keep himself _to_ himself.

The commander knelt down at the tactician's side, making Soren feel taller. He tried to look into his friend's crimson eyes, but the spell caster avoided him. Ike could see the boy's shame.

"None of this is your concern, Ike," he replied, thinking only logically and ignoring the raging pain in his heart and body. "I hope that the soldiers were only mildly punished. They are still good men and we need all the strength we can use on the battle front."

"After what they did to you? Soren... you mean so much more to me than that. I can't have those dogs anywhere near this camp after what they did," the commander said.

Soren looked down at him for the first time. "What did you do with them?"

"They're two miles out of camp, in the snow, naked. I gave them the option of dying on my sword or braving the winter with no armor. Don't worry, though, their weapons were deposited in the tent."

Soren's gaze narrowed and he grit his teeth, one fist rising in a sad attempt to bonk the bluenette on the head. Ike raised a brow when his fist didn't move, and Soren lowered it, his angry glare turning teary.

"Ike... I'm hurting..." he whispered, turning his body slightly to face the commander. He didn't have to turn far because Ike rose, capturing the ebony haired youth in a soft embrace. Ike sat on the bed, holding the sobbing sage.

"Soren, it's all right," he crooned quietly. "I'm here; no one is going to hurt you ever again." Ike pulled him higher until he was lying flat on the cot with Soren snuggled into his side. A pale hand grasped at his tunic and he wrapped another blanket around the two of them.

_You'll always have me._

_---_

A sharp jab to the chest woke Ike in the middle of the night. He turned to find his expert tactician flailing in his sleep, occasionally grunting and sniffing, as though he were crying. His struggles increased, and his grunts turned to pleading whines.

The commander's heart dropped as he realized what the youth must be dreaming about. "Shhhh," he whispered, stroking back his dear friend's hair and kissing his forehead. "I'm here, Soren. I'm here and I'm going to protect you." The youth rolled harshly and buried his face in the swordsman's broad chest. Ike hated those men for hurting his friend so deeply.

The commander held him tightly enough for the sage to wake with a start. He sucked in a breath and yelped when his eyes opened to see Ike's bare chest. He pulled away quickly, eyes wide and frightened.

"Soren!" His voice was a whisper but he immediately towered over the startled youth. "Calm down! It's okay!"

The youth looked up in shock, his black hair in a dark splay around his head. His eyes narrowed with tears as he remembered his memory influenced nightmare. "Oh, Ike..."

The bluenette sat up in his bed and scooped the sage up into his arms, keeping the blankets around the boy to keep him warm. "I'm sorry, Soren. So, so sorry. You don't deserve this pain," he whispered into the spell caster's ebony locks, kissing him on his head.

Soren choked on his sobs, trying his best to swallow the emotions that wanted to flood his mind every time he thought about the assault.

"No, no," the bluenette whispered, rubbing the tactician's back. The feel of his heat and the softness of the blanket were incredibly soothing, as was the steady beat of the large man's heart. "Let it out, Soren. You need to cry. I'm here. I'm here."

Sobs exploded from the tiny spell caster before he could control himself. He latched his frail arms around the larger man's neck and allowed hot tears to trail down the commander's toned chest. He cried harder as he thought about how tainted he had become. How the one thing that was his and his alone, had been for his entire life, his body, had been so violated. He felt so small, so helpless, so dirty. His sobs became desperate shouts that hurt his throat with their intensity. He felt as though he were falling apart.

In a way, he hoped that he was.

Ike felt his own tears brimming as he held the sage's face close to the crook of his neck. Soren's wails were muffled and eventually he grew quiet. Ike kissed the side of his head and pulled back.

"Soren, I swear to you that you'll be safe from now on." Ike's hands latched onto the side of his face and more tears leaked through his fingers.

"Ike... I..."

"Don't ever leave my side, Soren. Ever." Ike looked into branded's eyes and waited before gently pressing his lips to the sage's. Soren didn't flinch; it was as if the kiss were a promise.

The sage felt at peace for the first time since the incident only hours ago. Although his heart still ached, he knew that there was hope. He had Ike to hold him close and to chase away all that meant to harm him. He had Ike to dry his tears and whisper promises of never ending love. He had Ike to be there and keep him warm at night.

Even though time would be the deciding factor for Soren's recovery, he knew that the commander would give him all the time in the world.

**(The End)**


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